


Like a Summer Breeze

by Tovaras



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Friendship/Love, M/M, Romance, courting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-28
Updated: 2016-05-28
Packaged: 2018-07-10 17:41:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,107
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6998251
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tovaras/pseuds/Tovaras
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Summerday is a time for love, romance and courtship.<br/>Unless you are from Tevinter, where the idea of "courtship" is like a day at the farmer's market.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Like a Summer Breeze

Tevinter, being the civilized nation they liked to pretend to be, took great pride in traditions and their culture.  
They celebrated the five major holidays with flair and a great enthusiasm hidden with careful disinterest and not-so-careful show of money. Because, of course they were able to take some time of their busy schedules to sit on their asses and drink more wine than usual.

No wonder the Qunari thought they were all fat and that they had wine in their veins instead of blood.  
Or, as the Bull had put it, oh so charmingly: “Most Vints are just gristle and fat in a red wine marinade.” And Dorian knew that that much was true, sad as it was.

Summerday, however, left a somewhat bitter taste in Dorian’s mouth because in Tevinter, it was not like it was celebrated in the rest of Thedas.  
In Tevinter, instead of young men and women courting one another and happy couples marrying one another, it was as bad as a farmer’s market. Noble families sizing one another up before inspecting each other’s children and, if satisfied, arrange for their children to be wed to one another once they reached adult-hood.  
Dorian hasn’t even been born yet when the arrangement had happened between himself and Livia so he had escaped that bit of embarrassment, but he had seen it when he had joined his parents as a child to Minrathous to watch the grand festival, as well as being a casual observer when older.  
They tried to make it joyous and festive, of course. Grand feasts, celebrations, balls, dancing, entertainment, the whole lot, but it became hard to enjoy for the unfortunate young ones that was all but auctioned away to some noble family.

In the South, however, things were done differently.

Young men and women dressed in white as they courted one another with shy smiles and gentle blushes on their cheeks. Villages and settlements alike decorated their houses and fences with garlands of flowers in all colors, not trying to make it match, but to make it festive.

Even Skyhold seemed to have been bitten by the Summerday bug, with soldiers and servants alike running around, decorating, being cheerful and even courting one another.  
Coy looks were shared, flowers were passed around and people were hiding in every nook and cranny for places to kiss or get frisky.

And it wasn’t just the refugees or soldiers. 

Even the Inquisitor and the Inner Circle seemed to have found someone to court, one way or the other.

Josephine and Blackwall was busy with this strange, long-distance flirting, throwing one another longing gazes from afar.  
Sera was busy with Dagna, most likely up to no good, but probably doing it in a romantic fashion even if the end result would probably be an explosion of some sort.  
Even the Bull had found himself a bar-maid he was particularly fond off (though Dorian wasn’t entirely sure if that counted or not).

Then there was the Inquisitor…

The Inquisitor, undoubtedly, was busy charming the armor off Cassandra, reading her poetry and talking her on long and undoubtedly romantic walks. 

While Raymond and himself had shared more than one lingering look and a bottle of wine, chatting and flirting, Raymond and Cassandra were actually _doing_ things together. They trained, talked, even seemed to trade books from time to time, especially after the Inquisitor had discovered Cassandra’s love for poorly written smutty books.  
So the two of them had grown rather close as of late and it wasn’t like Dorian was jealous. He had no claim on the Inquisitor despite the fact that the two of them had spent a lot of time flirting and the fact that Raymond seemed to go out of his way to make Dorian smile. They were friends, good ones and just because Raymond was an open-minded sort didn’t mean that he was _interested_ because really, who was Dorian trying to fool?

Still, he would be lying of he said he wasn’t jealous, especially when he saw Raymond sneaking around with hidden objects in his arms.

It was enough to make a poor, lonely Tevinter Altus feel absolutely miserable because one thing was for damned certain.  
Nobody in their right minds would ever think to court the “evil Tevinter Magister”.

The sight of so many young lovers, holding hands while giving each other shy smiles was enough to make his insides churn with jealousy and as soon as he could, he escaped the more public areas in favor of his little nook in the library.  
He had already salvaged a bottle of wine from the tavern and maybe with the weather actually been sunny and the temperature resembling something that could be mistaken for “warm”, he would get the entire day up there alone. He certainly could think of worse ways to spend an evening.

He wasn’t really looking as he came up the stairs and rather absentmindedly put the bottle onto the small table by his chair before he started looking through the bookcases, searching for his copy of “The Liberatum” so he could continue his search for Corypheus’ lineage. It was feeble work, but it left him with something to do in-between all the research and correspondence he put in on other things, giving his mind a well-deserved break before he went mad.  
After locating his price, wedged between a copy of Brother Genitivi’s “Thedas: Myths and Legends” and “Mortalitasi: For the Living, the Dead”, and making a note of finding the heathen that kept messing up his carefully catalogued books, Dorian walked over to his chair, fingers already flipping through the yellowed pages to find the spot he had last been at.

There was also no dignified way to let out a yelp of surprise Dorian decided as he sat down into his comfy chair, only to become aware of the crunching sound of paper and something else as he unceremoniously sat down on… something.  
Thankfully the library was empty, not even Grand Enchanter Fiona or Helisma was present so he was able to fish out whatever his rump had managed to crush with minimum embarrassment, only to raise an eyebrow as he held up a rather crumbled and sad-looking bouquet of flowers.  
He had no doubt that the bouquet had looked lovelier about five minutes earlier, before Dorian had managed to sit on the thing, but that still left Dorian with two questions: Who had put the flowers on his chair in the first place. And why?

After carefully looking it over and finding it void of any notes (or spells), Dorian was left with more questions than answers, and while he had nothing against a good mystery, this was more personal.  
He wasn’t sure he liked “more personal”.

Still, the flowers were still somewhat lovely and after finding an empty bottle behind his chair, he was able to create a makeshift vase for the bouquet.  
And he had to admit, despite the sorry state they were in, the bright and beautiful colors did bring some cheer to his little nook.

He caught himself looking at them from time to time and despite not knowing who they were from, which was creepy enough in itself, he found himself smiling.

“Did you like them?”

Completely unprepared for the dark, though lovely voice coming from the darkness, Dorian rather involuntarily jumped in his seat before snapping his head in the direction of the owner.

“Pardon?”

Raymond smiled and gestured to the flowers. “The flowers. Did you like them? You never responded to my note so I wasn’t sure…”

“Wait… You send me the flowers?” Dorian asked as he stood up from his chair, eyeing the Inquisitor with a rather suspicious look.

Raymond in turn looked a cross between disappointed and surprised. “Well… Yes? Did you not find my note?” he asked, looking towards the flowers.

“No, I… There was no note with them. None that I could find anyway.”

“Truly? I could have sworn…” Raymond let out a small curse before he walked over to the chair, hands prodding and searching between and underneath the pillows until he found what he was looking for. There, underneath the soft pillow Dorian used behind the small of his back, was a small, crumpled up note.  
“It must have slipped off,” he said with a sheepish grin as he offered the note to Dorian, who look it somewhat gingerly. “That or the draft must have taken it… I should have fastened it better, I am sorry. I meant to give you the flowers in person, but you weren’t there so…”

Dorian was only halfway certain that Raymond was still talking as he was too caught up with reading the note over and over again, as if the words would change their meaning if he read them enough times.

But they didn’t.

_“My Dearest Dorian,_

_You must forgive my rather clumsy display of affection, but this is as new to me as I am sure it is to you.  
Still, I am writing this to you now in the hopes that you will agree to let me court you in the days that follow. I feel that we have a connection, one I would very much like to explore and I only hope that you feel the same affection for me as I do for you._

_If you agree, please come find me or, if it is better for you, leave me a note when the evening comes._

_Yours,  
Raymond”_

“-I know that flowers might not be the best, but it is part of the tradition and…”  
Raymond went quiet as he realized that Dorian was staring at the note, his face completely neutral. At least it seemed neutral to those that did not know the Tevinter.  
“… Dorian?”

Dorian slowly blinked his eyes before looking up at Raymond. “… What does this mean?”

Raymond arched an eyebrow before smiling some, reaching over to gently take Dorian’s hand between both of his, squeezing it along with the note it was still holding. “It means I want to court you, Dorian. I like you quite a bit and I would like to show you that.”

“Me.”

“Yes, Dorian.”

“You want to court me.”

“Very much so.”

“And… What does this require of me?”

Raymond let out a small chuckle and smiled at Dorian. “It only requires that you are honest with me. A yes or a no. And that you trust me.”

Now that was asking a lot, at least in Dorian’s mind.  
He had trust in Raymond, absolutely, but now that he was somewhat put on the spot… Did he dare trust him with this? With something as broken, delicate and ugly as his heart...?  
If it failed, if Dorian failed, then not only would he hurt Raymond in the process, but he would feel it inside him. Could he do that to Raymond?

Dorian looked down at their joined hands before he finally managed to regain his composure somewhat. “… Alright. I accept,” he said, offering Raymond a small smile.  
“I will allow you to court me.”

The radiant smile that came from Raymond at that was enough to fill Dorian with all sorts of emotions; joy, happiness, warmth, utter panic…  
Still, as he felt the warm touch of slightly chapped lips against his cheek along with another squeeze to his hands, he felt that he did not care about the feeling of panic.  
Not when Raymond was looking at him as if he had just gifted him the sun.

“Thank you, Dorian. For giving me this chance.”

Dorian wanted to say something clever, witty and charming, but all he could do was smile and hope that the blush on his cheek wasn’t too obvious.  
He had no idea what to expect and even as Raymond kissed his cheek again before departing with a warm smile and a wave of his hand (and honestly, he did not know what had even happened in the last five minutes they had been there…), he couldn’t help but feel guarded.

His mind was already helpfully supplying all the “what if’s” that he could think of, despite the fact that he was trying so hard not to think about it.

Still, as he looked at the beautiful flowers in the empty wine-bottle he also felt something else blossom in his chest.

He felt hope.

***

Like in Tevinter, Summerday didn’t actually mean just one day: no, it was more often than not a week-long celebration with dancing, drinking and awkward socializing, but the awkwardness was different in the South.  
In Tevinter, it was the awkward feeling of meeting your new bride or groom for the first time when you most likely had never even met before. It was drinking too much wine and eating way too many canapés as you desperately tried to make small-talk, resenting both your partner and your parents for putting you in this situation.  
In the South, it was slow awkward courting with people going from shy looks to shy talk and finally to shyly holding hands. Dorian wouldn’t be surprised if the sex was done with a sheet between them because they were “too shy”.  
That thought alone was enough to make him snicker as he pictured some shy, blond country-boy with a sheet over his head and his dick sticking out from a hole. It made a rather entertaining mental image.

Not that Dorian had any right to complain anymore as his own suitor was rather insistently leaving him small tokens and presents for Dorian to find.

After abusing the flowers with the indignity of being sat on, Dorian had found one bottle of half-decent Orlesian wine waiting outside the door of his room, complete with a pretty red bow.  
Next was a Tome about Arcane Techniques, which Dorian found utterly fascinating because of the subject-matter and because it had been researched by the Imperial Chantry.  
The small basket with chocolate-covered strawberries was a sweet surprise and Dorian was unable to hold back the moan as he bit into the treat. It had been too long since he’d had chocolate or strawberries available.

If that wasn’t enough, all the gifts came with a small note, usually just signed by Raymond, but the last one had also contained a poem, most likely selected and recommended by Cassandra, as if to remove all doubts that yes, he was serious and yes, he was doing this.

It was absolutely adorable.

And a little nerve wrecking.  
But mostly adorable.

“A copper for your thoughts?”

Letting out a startled yelp, Dorian whirled around and blinked almost owlishly at a very amused-looking Raymond who had the gall to chuckle at Dorian’s behalf.

“You know, Inquisitor, for a warrior you are awfully good at sneaking around,” he breathed out, hand placed lightly over his chest.

“Years of practice slipping out of my room to raid the kitchen,” Raymond mused before looking at Dorian’s latest gift, which he still held in his hand.  
A small box with fine Orlesian chocolate, complete with a brandy-filling. And if the sweet treat hadn’t been enough, the box it came in was rather lovely as well; polished hard, black wood with carved in patterns and symbols on the outside and adorned with red velvet on the inside.  
“I hope you liked it.”

“This?” Dorian said, having just about forgotten that he still had it in hand as he lifted it. “Oh, it was alright,” he added with a small grin, adding a small sniff as he took another of the chocolate treats and nibbled it.  
“The brandy was sub-par, a little sour and hard on the tongue, but what else can be expected from this land. Everything is sour and hard here.”

“You poor, poor man, all this unwanted attention and admiration. How do you sleep at night,” Raymond teased before smiling some.  
“But… You did like it, yes?”

“Absolutely,” Dorian said, not wanting to be the usual ass in front of the man he fancied. Instead he picked up another piece from the box and placed it against Raymond’s lips. The warrior smiled and parted his lips, allowing Dorian to slip the piece into his mouth, placing a small kiss against Dorian’s retreating thumb before he started chewing on the treat.  
“But do tell me, Inquisitor. Why all this? Why all these small tokens? Don’t get me wrong, I find them very sweet, but…”

“You don’t get it.”

“Not at all.”

Raymond just chuckled and with a look of amusement he offered the box back to Dorian.  
“Well, it is part of the Summerday tradition. The chase, the teasing. Courting the one you desire and driving them wild with curiosity and expectations as to what comes next. It can be done in different ways. Some are shy and leave the tokens as a surprise, others reveal themselves right away. Depends on how brave you are.”

“I am surprised there’s no murders happening after the gift-giver is revealed,” Dorian mused while taking the box from Raymond, feeling his heart skip a beat as their fingers touched for a moment.  
“I know I would go mad with curiosity if I didn’t know who it was. That or taken it as a very bad joke.”

Raymond laughed and smiled. “It is all part of the fun. Try and enjoy the attention, Dorian, and know that the climax is yet to come.”

“Maker, there is more?”

“Two more days, Dorian. Then you will see.”

“I’m not sure I can take it.”

Raymond merely smiled and leaned in to kiss Dorian’s cheek. “You can. But if you feel it is too much, let me know. I do not wish to pressure you.”

“You know me, Inquisitor,” Dorian murmured, smirking a little as he wandered over to sit in his usual chair.  
“I do love it when I am showered with attention and gifts.”

“That’s the spirit,” Raymond grinned before he turned to leave. “Do excuse me though, but the council is requesting me. Again.”

“You’re leaving?” Dorian pouted. “You’ve only just started to bring me gifts I can share, and you leave?”

“I promise at the end of this, we can share all of this and more,” Raymond murmured, smiling at Dorian as he walked backwards towards the stairs leading back down to the first floor.  
“Until later.”

“Yes, very well,” Dorian said, waving his hand at Raymond. “Leave me here to my own thoughts, but do come back whenever you want. Preferably soon,” he added with a small grin.  
“I do rather miss you when you are away after all.”

“You know I can’t stay away from you for too long,” Raymond laughed before vanishing down the stairs to attend the meeting.

As Raymond’s footsteps slowly vanished, Dorian let out a sigh, letting himself sink deeper into his chair as he looked at the box on the table, resting neatly next to the flowers. They were drooping ever so slightly, but they were still vibrant and colorful.

In Tevinter, they would be all but married by now, but the South seemed to enjoy the hunt more than the price.  
Dorian knew that that was hardly the intention; he was understanding that it was all about courting, making their intended one feel good and appreciated and yet he felt horribly bad.

Raymond was the one doing everything and Dorian could barely do anything except thank him. He felt ungrateful and while he was a little unnerved about how personally sweet and thoughtful the gifts were, mostly because it forced him to think about emotions he had tried to hide for so long, he desperately wanted to show Raymond that he too wanted to court him back.

He halfway wondered if Raymond even thought about that or if it just wasn’t done.

“Two more days,” Dorian murmured, letting his fingers gently touch the petals of one of the flowers.

He would have to think of something quick.

***

In Tevinter, the height of Summerday was a grand banquet where all the new couples-to-be were officially presented to their families, letting the elders rejoice in a good match, the younger cheer for escaping the duty and the new betrothed to look at one another with either a look of hatred or a look of “eh, could be worse”.

In the South, there were also a banquet, but it was a more cheerful celebration that was shared between all of them and not just a few.  
The villages, as he understood it, they would all gather for a meal together. There would be dancing, singing and to those who had courted, either in secret or in the open, they would go down on one knee and ask permission to continue the courtship. Not exactly a proposal in marriage, but a proposal to make the relationship official.

It was so nice and cheerful that Dorian thought he was going to be sick.

It was sweet, Dorian supposed, but he wasn’t able to quite enjoy it, mostly because he had just grown a rather impressive set of nerves.  
While Raymond hadn’t said anything (in fact, the asshole had been rather secretive all day), Dorian had gathered that the last Summer’s Day was the day to reveal everything and to be put on display like that… Dorian honestly wasn’t sure if he could take it.  
He wasn’t sure, of course. Raymond knew that Dorian was private when it came to his emotions and so Dorian wasn’t sure if Raymond would respect it or hope that his courting would help in easing Dorian’s insecurities.

He almost wanted to find him, to warn him, but another part wanted to see.  
He wanted to see if Raymond would do what others wouldn’t do; hold him up high for the world to see, proud and eager to be with him, instead of keeping him as a dirty secret in a bedroom.

Then there was his gift to the Inquisitor…  
Dorian had spent two days thinking about it until he realized he had nothing to give that the Inquisitor didn’t already have. After all, what could you give to the man who was just about the leader of Thedas.  
All he had was himself, body, mind and insecurities and if Raymond wanted that package-deal…  
It was all Dorian had and he had already decided that if Raymond wanted him, then Dorian was his.

The insecurities were enough to make him a little moody so Dorian had opted to stay away from the outside as he knew that just about everyone was out there, helping in preparing for the grand feast that would take place that same evening.

The entire courtyard had been outfitted with three rows of long-tables, stretching as far as the space would allow it. The banquet had been going on for a little while already and many were seated, having already helped themselves to fatty food and drinks.  
Servants and commoners alike were playing instrument, filling the warm summer-air with festive music and a couple of people were dancing to the cheerful tunes.

And there he was, hiding in his dank little library while trying not to listen to the cheerful music outside.  
It was downright pathetic and he knew it.

He would partake in the banquet once it started, of course: it would not look good if one of the Inquisitor’s trusted men did not join the others for the festivities, but for now, he would keep himself as far away from the festivities as he could.

At least until he was summoned.  
And not in the way he was expecting.

He had barely noticed as it had steadily grown darker around him until the wings of one of Leliana’s many raves snuffed out his modest candle, leaving him in darkness. “What in the-?! Leliana, control your damn birds,” he yelled as he glared at the offending bird, who merely stared back.

“What? What do you want,” Dorian asked, then cursed himself for the fact that he was trying to talk to a bird.  
The bird didn’t seem impressed either as he jumped up onto the book Dorian had been reading, revealing a note fastened to its leg.

“… For me?”

The raven just squawked loudly before pecking at the spine of the book, seemingly getting impatient.

“Right, right, I am sorry. I am sure you have places to be, seeds to pick at, books to shit at and the sort,” Dorian grumbled as he reached for the note, untying the fine string it fastened with before removing it along with the note.  
“Thank you.”

The bird just tilted its head, looking at Dorian with one eye before taking off, the powerful wings brushing over Dorian’s face as it went back to its roost.  
Dorian merely wrinkled his nose some before unfolding the note, reading over the simple message.

_“Dorian,_

_Please go to your room before coming down to join us._

_Raymond”_

A simple enough order and yet Dorian felt terrified.

As he walked over to his room, Dorian’s mind helpfully offered him the many different scenarios that could happen in the next five minutes; everything from mocking, a cruel joke, kidnappers waiting behind the door, but the scenario that scared him the most involved those with Raymond. Raymond waiting for him expectantly, only to be disappointed as he realizes that Dorian has no bloody idea what he is doing about anything.  
He was halfway tempted to open the door with magic, just to see if it was a trap before telling himself sternly, and loudly, that he was being ridiculous.

And he truly was.

When the door slid open, Dorian found the room exactly as he had left it except for one small thing.  
There was a new robe laid out for him on the bed along with a note.  
Arching an eyebrow, Dorian walked over to the bed, lifting the sleeve of the robe before picking up the note.

_“My Dearest Dorian,_

_I am sure, as you so nicely put it, your whiskers are quivering now with curiosity and expectations. Perhaps even a little bit of fear._  
But worry not, I wish to soothe those fears so instead of joining the masses at the front, I wish for you to come meet me in the gardens, wearing the outfit on your bed. Worry not, it is not a wedding gown, just another gift for you.  
Here I will give you your final gift, my last token in this courtship with the hope that you will accept it and we can move forward together towards the unknown. 

_Yours,  
Raymond”_

Dorian’s eyes flickered back to the robe on the bed before he finally picked it up and held it, looking it over.  
It was more simple than Dorian was used to, but he found that he liked it none the less. For one, it had both sleeves, but they seemed to be cut to only hang to the robe from underneath his armpits, leaving both his shoulders bare. The collar was high, up to Dorian’s jaw he would guess, but left the throat open and closed on the far left side of his chest from just underneath his collarbone and down to his groin before opening up again.  
It was silk, that much he could feel, and the shimmering black color glistened ever so slightly when he moved it. Golden embroilments decorated the sleeves and neckline as well as the collar, matching the snake-like clasps on the neck and chest. And, much like his regular white outfit, there was a golden snake sown on the back, it’s head by his shoulder before it’s long body twisted its way down to the left side of the split at the back of the robe.

He had to hand it to him; Raymond certainly knew his tastes very well.

It didn’t take him long to put the outfit on, complimenting it with one of his own black, silken pants as well as knee-high boots made out of dark leather and decorated with silver buckles and clasps.  
A yellow sash-like belt complimented his narrow waist and as Dorian looked himself over, he had to admit that Raymond had gotten his size pretty spot-on. A little wide over the shoulders and snug over the chest, but close enough. Nothing a good seamstress couldn’t take care off.

Taking a moment to make sure that everything about him was perfect, or as close to perfect as he could get, Dorian picked up the note to read it over again, feeling that flutter in his chest again.  
There was something about the moment, something so very tarrying and exiting, and Dorian couldn’t help but hope, want, long and just crave.  
He wanted to know. He wanted to try.

Most of the fortress was already by the time Dorian made his way down to the great hall, the music and laughter from outside auditable even here. He was curious about what was going on outside, but it was overshadowed by the yearning to find Raymond and see what could happen there.  
Without hesitation he crossed the great hall and opened the door that would take him to the small private garden.  
At first glance it looked as deserted as the rest of the fortress, but as he turned the corner he was able to see the faint light coming from the gazebo further in. And inside it…

“Inquisitor?”

Raymond looked up from his hands, having been busy twirling his thumbs as he waited and the smile that appeared on his face was absolutely radiant. “Dorian… You came.”

“With such a sweet invitation? How could I not,” Dorian said with a slight smile of his own, slowly approaching the warrior.  
He had clearly dressed up as well, having ditched he hideous beige outfit with something more… Relaxed. A simple leather coat, buttoned at the waist, but opening up towards the neck, revealing a simple white tunic underneath.  
The coat seemed to reach just above the warrior’s buttocks, revealing the long, muscular legs that were currently covered by soft-looking cotton pants.

Simple and yet so fitting.

“I was rather hoping you wouldn’t,” Raymond chuckled, giving Dorian a small, shy smile.  
It was so odd to see the Inquisitor like that, the man normally wearing such a look of confidence on his face.  
Instead the man’s face looked younger, his features softer, giving Dorian a view of the man Raymond was before all of this happened.  
Light, brown hair swept back over his head, the scar that just touched his lip and went over his chin, those large, expressive grey eyes, the tattoo by the man’s left eye…  
This man, this wonderful man that Dorian found that he adored so much…

Realizing he’d just been standing there in complete silence for what must have been several seconds, Dorian managed to crank up a confident smile as he gestured towards Raymond. “You said there was a final gift?”

Raymond chuckled softly and smiled, nodding as he reached his hand out towards Dorian. “There is. Should you choose to accept it.”

“Depends on what it is,” Dorian murmured, feeling his heart beat faster in his chest.

“My heart,” Raymond murmured, looking at Dorian with such a hopeful expression that Dorian could weep.  
“I cannot tell the future, Dorian. I have many things I want to promise, but do not dare to because of the situation we are in. But I can promise you this much, and that is to adore you, hold you and respect you for as long as there’s breath in my chest. I already adore you, I know I am falling in love with you and all I wish for you is to make you happy. All that I have, I want to give to you, Dorian… Should you wish to accept it.”

Dorian swallowed hard as he listened, his heart beating almost painfully hard in his chest.  
Raymond… Was confessing his love to him. To him.

All Dorian had to do was reach out and take it.

“Raymond,” he started, feeling as if he was frozen in place.

“You don’t have to say anything,” Raymond said quickly, hand still stretched out towards Dorian.  
“At least not something you don’t mean. But if there’s a chance for us…”

“Raymond,” Dorian repeated, making Raymond snap his lips shut before he started ranting.

“Yes, Dorian?”

“Just kiss me, you bloody bastard.”

The stunned look on Raymond’s face almost made Dorian laugh, but the smile that followed was more than enough to make Dorian smile in return.

“Now that I can do,” the warrior grinned as he closed the gap between them, never breaking the eye-contact between himself and Dorian.  
As soon as he was able to touch him, he let one hand land on Dorian’s hip, the other on Dorian’s cheek. “You are certain?”

“No, but that won’t stop me from demanding it anyway,” Dorian murmured, titling his head ever so slightly against the warrior’s warm, slightly calloused hands.

That seemed to be all the encouragement Raymond needed as he closed the final gap between the two of them, pressing his lips firmly against Dorian’s in a sweet first kiss. And Maker if it wasn’t everything that Dorian could ever long for.  
Sweet, firm, demanding, passionate, clumsy, imperfect.  
It was just perfect.

When Raymond broke for air, Dorian let out an involuntary whine before opening his eyes, gazing into Raymond’s own, warm grey pools.

Oh, he was smitten. He was absolutely smitten. Terrified, but ready to embrace it.

“So… What does this mean for us, Inquisitor,” he whispered, hoping his voice was shaking too much.

“For one… It means you can call me Raymond. Or Ray,” Raymond chuckled. “Though that privilege was always yours, you just never took it.”  
He leaned in and gave Dorian another sweet, but brief kiss on the lips, then on the nose.  
“Second… We take our time. Like I said, this is not a question of marriage, but I want us to… Figure us out. We’ve flirted for a long time, but I am tired of dancing around it. I want you and I want to show you that I am here, now and for as long as you’ll have me.”

Dorian let out a small nervous chuckle, but he didn’t pull away. “You are showing me a wonder and asking me to accept it without knowing what it is,” he whispered softly, wanting so desperately to accept, but needed Raymond to know how bad he was at this.

“I am not asking you to accept it for what it is,” Raymond murmured, stroking his hand gently over Dorian’s cheek.  
“I am asking for a chance to show you… And for a chance to build something together. You and me. As fast or as slow as you want it.”

Dorian didn’t answer, at least not with his voice. Instead he leaned in and pressed his lips to Raymond’s, desperately trying to convey every thought, every unspoken word, every feeling, everything into it, hoping that the warrior would understand. He grasped at the front of the man’s jacket, fingers digging into the leather as he kissed him hard, afraid that if he loosened his grasp that this wonderfully infuriating man would vanish into thin air.  
Raymond’s only response was to wrap his arm tightly around Dorian’s waist, returning the kiss like a man dying of thirst.

Nothing really mattered now outside the two of them and the only thing Dorian could focus on was the warmth feeling of Raymond’s lips against his own, warming him and making him feel more uplifted, caressing through him like a summer breeze.

It was magic.

***

In Tevinter, at Summerday’s end, the announcement of new betrothed couples would be called out to the joy of the parents and despair of the couple, and possibly whoever they were personally involved with.  
A grand feast would be held to celebrate their happiness before a small ring-ceremony would be held, just to tie the two together until the real wedding could be held.

In Ferelden, the new happy couples would show their love, happily dancing the evening away with their new mate, happiness and joy clear in their eyes.  
Sure, a few would be left broken-hearted as their courtship was not accepted by the other one, but those seemed to be few and far between.

As for Dorian, he found that he could grow to like the Summerday celebration.  
True, he would not be courted as he was this time every year, but he knew that he and Raymond would do something special.  
It certainly held a special meaning in his heart now.

It always would.


End file.
